Lessons Learned
by TeaNSympathy
Summary: Roger and Jill renegotiate the rules and Seth Oliver learns a lesson.
1. Chapter 1

"So you are seriously planning to file that ridiculous assault and battery charge against my client?"

Arms folded, Jill waits for Roger to respond.

"Absolutely. Your client is on tape attacking the mayor of New York with a dangerous weapon. There is no way the government is not going to prosecute that to the fullest extent of the law."

Jill sighs, exasperated.

"Glitter. My client was expressing her deeply-held political beliefs by glitter bombing the mayor. If glitter were really a dangerous weapon, there would be class action lawsuits against kindergarten art classes everywhere popping up throughout the country."

Roger rolls his eyes.

"Don't trivialize this, Jill. Glitter can cause serious corneal damage. There is precedent for this charge."

"One case. One. In which the defendant pleaded guilty to disturbing the peace. This is absurd. No one got hurt. My client had no intent to physically harm anyone."

"Your client posted a video of herself on YouTube saying, "I can't wait to see the mayor crying like a little girl when he's covered in pink sparkles."

"My client was referring to embarrassment, not to physical pain. From corneal damage or anything else."

"Good luck proving that."

Jill is running out of arguments. She had known that trying to get Roger to drop the case was pretty much a lost cause but had figured it was worth a try.

"Well, I'm appalled that the government really intends to waste time and resources on this nonsense."

"You can be appalled as you like, but we're not dropping the charges. As you know, we take all threats to the personal safety of our officials very seriously. So, do you want to discuss a deal?

"Let me talk to my client. I'll be in touch."

Roger shrugs.

"All right. Are we done here then?"

Jill picks up her bag and folder full of papers, preparing to leave.

"I suppose we are…wait, what are you doing?"

It is an unnecessary question. The predatory gleam in Roger's eyes as he closes his office door tight and draws the blinds has made his intentions quite clear.

"We are _at work!"_ she warns sternly as he approaches her.

"That's okay. This'll only take a moment." He takes the bag and papers from her and places them on his desk before pulling her into his arms.

There is nothing remotely okay about it. Jill knows perfectly well that this is a terrible idea. They had discussed the matter in detail shortly after they started sleeping together a few weeks ago. She had wanted to draw up an official contract governing appropriate workplace behavior. He was not in favor, insisting that they were both mature, reasonable, professional adults and that no contract was necessary. Clearly, she had been in the right. At this moment she knows there must be at least 100 reasons she could present regarding the issue of why displays of affection in the workplace are wrong, unprofessional, and reckless. The problem is that she is craving his touch with an aching intensity that makes rational thought extremely difficult and so, much against her better judgement, she allows Roger to gently push her up against his office wall and kiss her until she is gasping for breath. His hand lands on her hip, rubbing slow sensuous circles against the fabric of her skirt, and when his thumb dips under her waistband and caresses the bare skin there she feels her knees begin to go weak. They are just about to give way when suddenly there is the creak of a door opening and a shocked gasp splits the air.

Roger releases Jill so abruptly that she nearly loses her balance and is forced to grasp ungracefully at his arm to avoid landing on the floor. Together they look towards the open door, where a red-faced and open-mouthed Seth Oliver stands horrified.

"It's called knocking, Oliver!" Roger snaps. "Consider it next time!"

"Uh yes, sir. I'll come back later." He turns to flee, but Roger stops him.

"Sit!" he barks, gesturing toward the chair facing his desk. "If it's too important to knock first, I want to hear about it now!" Obediently Seth sits. In a softer tone, Roger says to Jill,

"Was there anything else?"

"Not right now. But I am going to need your signature on some important paperwork later this afternoon."

She can tell by his hangdog expression that he knows exactly what she means."

"Fine. Give me a call when it's ready and I'll come by to sign it."

"Fine."

She turns to leave.

"Bye Ms. Carlan. Sorry about that."

The young AUSA looks as though he is praying for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. She nods and gives him a little wave on her way out the door. Although she is frustrated by the interruption, irritated that she will now have to spend her afternoon drawing up a contract, and worried about becoming the subject of office gossip, she feels sorry for Seth Oliver. She has been unlucky enough to see Roger Gunn truly angry on a handful of occasions and it is not a pleasant thing to witness. She hopes he is feeling merciful today.


	2. Chapter 2

Roger leans back in his chair, arms folded, and glares at Seth.

"So. Mr. Oliver. What seems to be the problem?"

Seth is seriously regretting his decision to get out of bed that morning. Along with every other decision that has led up to this moment.

"Um, well - it's my expert witness in the art forgery case. Sir. He cancelled. He's testifying in a different case. I guess they made him a better offer.

"And you couldn't convince him to stay on your case?" It is obviously a rhetorical question, judging by Roger's disgusted tone of voice. He picks up the Rolodex on his desk and shuffles through it until he finds a particular card, jotting down the number on a piece of paper and handing it to Seth.

"Here. Try her. She's good, she's local, and she owes us. We paid her way too much last time."

Seth takes the paper gratefully.

"Thanks. I'll call her now." He heads for the door.

"Oliver!" he turns.

"I...uh. I'm sure it goes without saying that I appreciate your discretion. About before."

"Oh...yes. Of course." Seth pauses, then adds, " And I'm sure it goes without saying that I appreciate your giving me the next terrorism case instead of handing it off to Leonard."

Seth realizes the second the words leave his mouth that he has made a grave error in judgment. He wishes he could take them back, but it is too late. Roger's grey eyes turn to ice. They bore into Seth's like daggers and his voice drops to an ominous rasp.

"I hope I didn't just hear an AUSA threaten to extort his boss using knowledge of said individual's personal life in order to gain professional advantage. Because that would most definitely be a reason for immediate termination. Not to mention possible legal action."

Seth swallows hard.

" Sorry, sir, it was just a joke."

"As previously established, Oliver, you are not funny."

Roger lets the words sink in for a moment before continuing.

"If I hear anything from anybody about anything you may have witnessed in this office today, I will know exactly where it came from. And I will be your enemy. You do not want me for an enemy. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir. Very. Thank you for the number."

Seth leaves Roger's office at a pace that, while not technically a run, is much quicker than his usual stride. Automatically he heads straight for Kate's office as he always does in times of stress. Her door is closed. He is about to open it, but catches himself in time and knocks carefully on the dark wood.

"Go away!"

He opens the door, enters, and collapses into the chair.

Kate is working busily on her computer and doesn't bother to look up.

"Interesting interpretation of the phrase 'Go away' " she observes.

"I just made Roger angry."

"Uh-huh," she continues typing, eyes on the screen.

"I went to his office and I...interrupted him."

Kate sighs.

"Well, people often do get angry when they're interrupted. In their offices. When they're busy. Especially when they're trying very hard to finish a brief before the end of the day. Maybe that's something you should think about avoiding in the future?"

"It was terrifying."

Seth's voice is shaking. Kate finally looks up from her computer and notices that her colleague is considerably paler than usual.

"Are you ok?Here, have some water. Do you want to talk about it?"

" I can't."

Kate shrugs. "OK."

She goes back to her work. Seth begins to pace nervously around the office.

"Stop that! You're making me nervous! What happened?"

Seth groans.

"I want to tell you! I want to tell you so much! But I can't, I can't do it! I- mmmfff."

Kate looks up to see that her colleague has plastered both of his hands to his mouth.

"Seth, you are behaving very bizarrely. Even more so than usual. Do you need me to call someone? Where are you going?"

Seth, hands still over his mouth, is heading for the door. He mumbles something through them that she thinks may be, "I'm going to buy a fish"and then is gone.

Kate stares after him for a moment, concerned. She shakes her head and grabs a lime-green post-it, scribbling a note to remind herself to Google "symptoms of a mental breakdown" later that evening.

"Insane," she mutters to herself before returning to the brief she is trying to finish.


	3. Chapter 3

It is late afternoon when Roger pokes his head into Jill's office.

"Closed?" he asks, gesturing to the door.

"Please."

"Should I lock it?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure everyone in this office knows to knock first. And I don't want anyone to wonder why it's locked."

He shuts the door carefully before crossing over to Jill's desk.

"I'm sorry about earlier. Uncontrollable impulse."

She sighs, saving the document she is working on before turning to face him.

"I was just as much to blame. Well, almost. You did start it."

"Guilty as charged. It won't happen again."

"It better not. Did you talk to Seth? Do you think he'll tell anyone?"

Roger smiles. It is not a nice smile.

"I took care of it. Don't worry, he won't be saying anything about it."

Jill eyes him suspiciously.

"Seth is still among the living, right?"

"As far as I know. He was a few hours ago," Roger's breezy lack of concern is noticeable. Jill resolves to be particularly kind to Seth Oliver the next time their paths cross.

"OK. Well, at least that's one less thing to worry about."

She picks up the sizeable stack of papers labelled "Appropriate Workplace Behavior" at the top.

"Pull up a chair. This might take a while."

She hands him a copy of the contract, keeping one for herself. He grabs a chair and positions it next to her desk. They both read in silence for a few moments.

"Any questions?" she asks.

"Hmm…well, this is pretty self-evident. No touching, no kissing, clothing must remain fully on at all times…"

"I thought it should be as comprehensive as possible."

"That certainly is comprehensive. I'll try to resist the urge to disrobe in the courtroom if it strikes."

"Funny." Jill rolls her eyes at the sarcasm, but the thought of Roger disrobing in the courtroom- or in her office, for that matter- has caused her pulse to quicken and images to flit through her brain that are completely unhelpful to the task at hand. She takes a deep breath and focuses on the paper in front of her.

"Anything else?"

"You're actually making an exception to the no-touch rule for handshaking?"

"I thought it was probably unavoidable. In court. If you look a little further down the page, you'll see that I've included some guidelines to keep handshaking professional."

He arches a brow in disbelief as he reads aloud,

"' Any handshakes between parties should last no more than five seconds and should never be accompanied by eye contact lasting more than three seconds.' Are you really expecting me to set a timer whenever I need to shake hands with the opposing attorney?"

"Of course not. We're both perfectly able to count."

She stands up, motioning him to stand in front of her.

"Come on, let's try it. Just for practice."

"God, this is weird," he mutters, but reluctantly obeys.

"Better to deal with the weirdness now in private than in public later, right? All right, pretend I just won a case." His expression is one of incredulity. She sighs. "OK, pretend you just won a case. I don't want to strain your imagination too much."

"That is a bit easier to picture."

"All right then. Ready?" He nods. "Congratulations!" she says holding out her hand. He takes it in his and they shake. "One Mississippi" she counts aloud. "Two Mississippi" His palm is warm against hers. She meets his eyes and the heat she sees there causes her stomach to flutter with desire. She swallows hard, forgetting what number she is on. "Umm…two Mississippi…"

"You already said that. And I'm pretty sure that was already more than five seconds."

"Well, you get the general idea."

She drops his hand and returns to sit behind her desk. She'd never really noticed before how sturdy her desk was. Her desk could probably hold the weight of two people. If it ever had to. Focus! she orders herself sternly. Now is not a good time to be considering alternate uses for her office furniture.

"So are we all set with that? Anything else?"

He reads in silence for a moment, then frowns.

"This here. Term number seven. 'Parties must remain at a minimum of three feet from one another at all times.'"

"There's an exception for handshaking. And another for crowded elevators. I've noted those below."

"I see that. But three feet? Why three? It seems a bit arbitrary.

Jill had been hoping to not have to go into the specifics of this particular term of their agreement, but she probably owed him an explanation.

"Any closer than three feet means I can smell your cologne."

"I thought you liked my cologne."

"I do like your cologne. It's just that if I can smell your cologne, it increases the likelihood that …well, that contracts may be violated. And I don't want that."

Jill has lost innumerable cases to Roger over the years, but she has never seen anything like the smirk that spreads across his face at her admission.

"So… you really find me that irresistible?" he purrs.

"Not what I said!" she protests. "I just…I think it's prudent to minimize any temptations. Are there any conditions you'd like to add?"

He thinks for a moment, frowning a bit in concentration.

"Hmmm… there is one, actually. You know that blue sweater you sometimes wear? The tight one?"

"The powder blue cashmere? With the scoop neck?"

"Yeah, that sounds like it. Maybe you could just not wear that one to work?"

Jill grins, pleased.

"You like that sweater?"

"Yes. I like that sweater a lot. I like that sweater enough that it might be a good idea if you save it for non-work occasions."

"Done" she says cheerily. The sweater has always been one of her favorites, but she hadn't realized it affected Roger so intensely. Making a mental note to wear it for their dinner date Saturday night, she carefully pens the addition in both copies.

"Do you need me to reprint it? Or are you all right with a handwritten alteration?"

"That's fine. "

He scans the last page, then chuckles.

"Seriously? Parties must address each other by given first names, optionally with last names included as well. When have I ever called you anything but Jill?"

"You never know. Sometimes…well, if there are pet names used in private, they might slip out in public. I'm trying to anticipate every possibility."

"I really can't picture calling you "honeybunch" or "baby doll" in the office. Or anywhere else"

She cringes. "Ugh, please stop. I loathe pet names. Even in jest."

"Well, that makes two of us. That one should be easy to follow."

"Thank goodness for that."

Roger helps himself to a pen from the mug on Jill's desk and uncaps it with a decisive click. He scrawls his name with a flourish across each line on the contract. Jill stares at him, shocked.

"Really? Just like that? You're not even going to complain about how unnecessary this is?"

He shakes his head, handing her the pen so she can sign as well.

"No. I'm glad, actually. This isn't going to be easy and it's probably a good idea to have it spelled out."

Jill adds her signature to both contracts and, with a final once-over, passes Roger his copy.

"Well…thank you. That's somewhat surprising, but I appreciate it. Should we shake on it?"

"I think once was enough for today." He smiles ruefully, heading toward the door, but then pauses and turns back. "Do you need a contract for…out-of-work behavior? Is there anything we need to discuss?"

She can tell it is not an easy thing for him to ask. Her heart melts a little.

"Not right now. I can't think of a thing."

"But you'll let me know if there is?"

She smiles.

"I'll let you know. But for right now, I'm happy."

"Good."

Just then the heavy door swings open, narrowly missing Roger's head, and an agitated Sandra Bell spills into the room.

"I need your help with the – oh!" Sandra notices Roger and shoots him a look of barely concealed disdain. "Am I interrupting?"

"We're just finishing up. See you tonight," Jill tells Roger. "They're playing the Royals," she informs Sandra, who is looking at her oddly.

"7:10." Roger confirms before departing. Sandra glares after him.

"I know it's none of my business, but I really don't understand how you can go to games with that…vampire in an expensive suit."

Jill exhales a long breath.

"He's a prosecutor, Sandra, not a demon. Although there are certainly times when I understand how you could be confused." She tucks her copy of the contract safely away in her desk drawer. "Now, what can I help you with?"


End file.
